


A Robot's Guide to Scaring Away Pesky Lizards

by QiFrost



Category: Dreams of the Sunlit Earth
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QiFrost/pseuds/QiFrost
Summary: Domovoi has attracted some unwanted attention due to his skills as a dealer. Very annoying unwanted attention.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	1. Robot Meets Olm

The first encounter with Unseeing Focus was rather tame. The Olm had joined in on a table of skilled gamblers trying to beat Domovoi, having been attracted by the fuss. The game in question was, at it's base, a variant of poker, but with the conspicuous addition of an emblazoned dagger stabbed into the centre of the table. The player with the best hand at the end of the round (assuming they hadn't folded) would be declared the "king", and all players would dive for the dagger. If the king were stabbed with the (blunted) dagger before they could collect their winnings, they would forfeit double their winnings to the rest of the players. A vicious ruleset for vicious gamblers seeking a thrill, there were rumours of underground rings that played with real knives, betting lives as well as cash. 

Domovoi was naturally quite skilled at the game, combining a Ring of Truth-Telling to see through bluffs, Living Gloves and centuries of combat experience to manipulate the chips and knives, and a merciless blank visage to horrify even the most hardened gamblers. The sight of a gigantic automaton swinging down a knife at you was enough to shake most gamblers, blunted or not.

Unfortunately, Unseeing Focus was not "most gamblers". In retrospect, the toothy grin and overt familiarity with the game really should've been a red flag.

The game ended with Domovoi and the Olm cleaning out the other players. The Olm didn't even flinch when the dagger was thrust at him, weaving around it with practiced ease and scooping up his winnings in a sinuous movement. The Olm would then mock the player, something about being too meek, wagering mere gold rather than blood. The real stinger, though, were the parting words left by Unseeing Focus:

"You. You smell of blood and death. Perhaps you will give me the thrill I seek."

Well. That wasn't ominous at all.


	2. A Chance Meeting, Except Without the Chance; Aka Stalking

A week later, Domovoi was on patrol when he spotted a familiar cloaked figure ambling up to him. As he approached, the Olm pulled off his hood, revealing a grin far too wide for his face, and showing far too many teeth.

"Long have I waited for a rival worthy of taking my life. You too, are bored of these mundane games as well, are you not? Come! Join me in my revels! Embrace the madness, the thrill of putting your very life on the line!"

To which Domovoi replied with a succinct:

"My Apologies, You Must Have Mistaken Me For Someone Else. Goodbye."

before returning to his patrol.

Despite the harsh shutdown, Unseeing Focus was undeterred. Living up to his moniker, he pursued Domovoi with a unhealthy obsession, popping up throughout his patrol to entreat the automaton.

"Come on, just one gamble! It's just your life!"

"No."

"Fine, just a limb then?"

"Go Away."

"Please? It's so boring playing without staking your life!"

"That Is Not My Concern. **You Are Interrupting My Patrol**." ( **Intimidation 17** )

"Eeeeh, don't be such a party pooper."

His attempt at intimidation having failed, Domovoi shook his head and turned away, pointedly ignoring further chattering from the Olm.


	3. Another Chance Meeting; (Aka more stalking, this time with threats!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an Olm goes fishing for conflict and and a warforged demonstrates a shoulder throw.

In hindsight, ignoring the Olm was a mistake. The lizardfolk took Domovoi's silence as a sign that he was getting closer to his goal of goading him into a game. His pestering became louder and more frequent, often brazenly latching on to Domovoi's torso and having to be dragged along. While Domovoi's axiomatic mind afforded him near-infinite patience and the ability to ignore the distraction in favor of keeping a careful watch, the Olm was unmistakably a problem, disturbing the relative peace his patrols were supposed to ensure.

The tensions eventually came to a head, but surprisingly, not during the patrol. It was in a park, as Domovoi hosted his training sessions for the young of Zwll. Previously, the Olm had refrained from interrupting the gathering, whether out of ignorance for where it was being hosted, or some twisted respect. However, today was different.

As Domovoi was teaching a sprighty young girl by the name of Lia how properly flip an attacker over her shoulder, the Olm burst out from behind a statue. Putting his words into practice, Domovoi proceeded to perform a textbook shoulder throw on Unseeing Focus, leaving the Olm upside down on the other side of the park.

"And That, Is A Practical Demonstration Of The Shoulder Throw. Remember, Pull And Twist The Lapel, Then Spin And Use Your Back As A Platform For The Throw. If You'll Excuse Me, I Need To Have Some Words With The Intruder. Practice Your Throws With Lazarus On The Mattress, Please."

After putting the lesson on hold, Domovoi stalked up to the reckless gambler, fuming.

"You. What Is The Meaning Of This."

To his credit, Unseeing Focus barely even reacted to Domovoi's menacing glare. Letting out a drawl, the Olm replied:

"Oh, I was just keeping an eye on my favorite rival! Y'know, if you're too scared to bet _your_ life, maybe you could bet those children's, hm?"

At that exact moment, something inside Domovoi snapped.

" **YOU DARE**? Fine. I Will Humour Your Petty Games. But If You So Much As Touch These Children, I Will Gut You And Leave You For The Demons To Devour."

The Olm grinned. Hook, line, and sinker.


	4. The Game of Life

The game was set for the next day, meeting in a private suite booked by Unseeing Focus. Upon Domovoi's entry, he was greeted by a table with a mysterious orb, as well as ten dice, arranged in a pyramid. Unseeing Focus stood next to the table, a sickening smile plastered on his snout.

"Welcome, my robotic companion! I present to you my gambling parlour, home to the deadliest game of all, the game of Life! Are you ready to play?"

"I Keep My Promises, Lizard, So Keep Yours. I Will Play Your Petty Little Game-"

A flash of light from the orb interrupts Domovoi's grumbling.

"Ah, you've agreed. Don't worry, this lil' thing is just a portable Geas. Can't have players ducking out on the game, can we? Don't worry, I'm under the same effects."

Another flash from the orb, and a tingling of magic as the Geas takes hold on Unseeing Focus.

"Now now, the rules. This game is one of my favorites. It's simply so, so real! The twists and turns of fortune playing with the lives of us mere mortals!"

"We will play a series of games, taking turns in choosing one. Any game is welcomed at the table, as long as it is nominally fair to both players. These represent the challenges and trials life throws at us. The victor gains one of these dice, a spoil of their victory. But it wouldn't be Life without luck, even in victory! A win could be a narrow pass, or an overwhelming success! The victor must roll the dice, and add the number of pips showing to their score! In the end, the winner is the one with the greatest score. In such a manner, even the unskilled may defeat the strong, if Lady Luck so wills it. Just like in Life!"

"Cease These Theatrics." Domovoi interjects. "Let Us Get This Over With."

The matches raged on, with Domovoi stoically dismantling the reckless strategies of Unseeing Focus. The Olm, on his part, played aggressively, almost suicidally, stealing game after game with brazen risks. In the end, both players ended up with five dice each, a testament to their nearly equal skills.

"So. It's come down to this, the final tally. One of us will go to hell today, damned by Lady Luck. Go on, take the first strike!"

If he had eyes, he would roll them. Domovoi throws the die, the clattering deafening in the silent room. A single point peeks up at the watching eyes.

"A one. How sad for you."

The Olm follows up with his roll, laughing when he sees the result.

"Ahaha! A three! Luck is on my side, it seems!"

The throws continue, tension mounting with every die. Next are a 5 and a 4, then 3 and a 3, the Unseeing Focus's excitement mounting as his results fluctuate. The scores sit at 10 for the Olm and 9 for Domovoi.

"Yes, keep going! Let the fever take you!"

Domovoi has long since tuned out the shouting of the Olm, and continues to roll, near robotically.

A three. The response? A one. An ironic reversal of the initial rolls. 11 and 12 now.

The Olm is practically shaking with glee, clamoring for Domovoi to roll his last die.

"Show me it, the glory of your final roll! Will you ascend to the heavens or be cast into hell?! Let your fate take the wheel!"

Slowly, inexorably, the die slips from Domovoi's hand. It bounces and rolls, settling face up into a six. Thus Unseeing Focus's fate is sealed. At 18 to 11, there is no roll of the die that can allow him to win anymore.

"HAHAHAHAHA! IT'S ALL POINTLESS AFTER ALL, ISN'T IT? EVEN WITH ALL MY SKILL, ALL MY EFFORT, IN THE END, IT IS MERELY LUCK THAT DECIDES MY FATE! COME, TAKE YOUR WINNINGS, MY GOLD AND MY LIFE!"

The deranged Olm throws his final die in the air, laughing maniacally. He fixes Domovoi in the eye, a mad glint in his own. The Geas is set, his life is forfeit.

As the die tumbles through the air, Domovoi draws his sword, then swings it down. Domovoi's blade descends mercilessly, the Olm's sharp senses allowing him to feel it coming in slow motion. The killing intent in the air is suffocating, a mental guillotine to match the physical one ready to bisect the gambler. This. This is it, the ultimate... thrill...?

**Domovoi Intimidation Roll: 26**

Wait.

No! Nononononono!

Why isn't this thrilling?

This was supposed to be his greatest moment, dying in a legendary gamble!

Why is he feeling this-

Why does he feel only **fear**?

Panicking, the Olm puts up his arms, curling up futilely against the looming deathblow. The geas he used to heighten the sense of tension is now a chain, binding him to his inescapable fate. Yet, instead of the pain of the longsword tearing through his flesh, all he senses is the the sound of two halves of a die landing on the table.

Disbelievingly, he opens his eyes. There it is, the die cut cleanly in half, both halves lying on face-up the table.

"Seven Pips Showing. A Tie. There Will Be No Bloodshed Today."

Saying that, Domovoi sheathes his blade, getting up from the table. The chains of the Geas binding the machine shatter like sugar glass under Domovoi's _Cleansing Touch_. Despite the hostilities exchanged throughout their entire interaction, his next words were colored not with rage, but with pity.

"I Do Not Know What Happened To You To Make You So Dismissive Of Your Own Life, But Let This Serve As A Reminder Of Its Value. If You Cannot Bring Yourself To Live For Your Own Sake, Perhaps Try Living For Others. It Would Be A Shame To Lose Such A Passionate Soul To Its Own Vices."

Unseeing Focus falls limp in his chair, crying and gibbering, as Domovoi steps out of the room to return to his duties. Perhaps with this harsh lesson, the Olm will crumble and die. Perhaps he will rise from the ashes and be reborn as a better man. It all depends on Unseeing Focus now.

That is a gamble Domovoi is willing to take.


End file.
